December 30, 2009
by Kavi Leighanna
Summary: Hotch has a terrible nightmare of losing Emily. The M-rated version of December 30th in Something More. HP


December 30, 2009

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_There was blood on his hands, wet, warm blood and it took him time to realize what was going on. The woman in front of him had been stabbed, was bleeding profusely and he couldn't, and knew he wouldn't be able to stop. His heart stopped as he looked up into dark eyes. This wasn't his usual dream. This wasn't Haley dead beneath him, that he could take because he had dreamt it so many times. He felt his breath come short, grasping her hand tightly in his own._

_"Don't you dare, Emily. Please."_

_The laugh was familiar and he felt his blood run cold as he realized he couldn't save her. He hadn't been able to save Haley, and now he wasn't going to be able to save Emily. Foyet stood above them both, his grin wide, his eyes glowing as Aaron suffered, watching the light in Emily's eyes diminish._

_"Aaron…"_

_"No, Emily, don't let go. Stay with me please."_

_"Aaron!"_

"Emily!" He jolted awake with the yelp, sitting bolt upright in his bed. He was breathing hard, his chest heaving with the effort, but he was only like that for a moment. There was a hand on his back, then another one around his neck, and he felt himself breathing in the fresh scent that seemed to follow Emily everywhere.

"Aaron, calm down," she said quietly, her hand rubbing up his back as the first tears hit her neck. "Breathe please, or you're going to make yourself sick."

The worry and concern in her voice was enough to permeate his mind into complying and he tried to take deep breaths. Shakily, Aaron wrapped his arms tightly around her, as tight as he could.

"Okay," Emily murmured. "It's okay. Everything is okay."

It took him twenty minutes to calm down and Emily stayed wrapped around him the whole time. She was whispering in his ear, saying whatever came to her mind as she continued to stroke his back. Eventually, he loosened his hold slightly and fell back to the bed. Emily stayed looking down at him with curiosity and concern. His hand was shaky as it came up to cup her cheek.

"What happened?" she asked almost rhetorically before pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand. He'd told her a few times what the dreams were about, but he was usually quite vague. This time, he just shook his head. She sighed before hunkering down against him, putting her head over his heart. His arm immediately came around her, holding her to him as he twined their legs together.

"He got to you," Emily heard, just as she was sure he was falling asleep.

She didn't look up at him, aware that he probably wouldn't be looking at her. "Foyet?"

His hand tightened on her side and it was enough of an answer. "It wasn't Haley," he told her, voice just above a whisper. "It was you."

Emily shivered. She was an agent, sure, and she knew how to take care of herself, but she wasn't sure she would have ever been able to survive an attack by Foyet. Aaron had only survived because Foyet wanted to see him suffer. She shifted until she was lying over him, shoulders, to hips, their legs still entwined.

"He can't come after me," she told the man beneath her as her fingers stroked his face. "You made sure of that."

His arms wrapped around her, hugging her close as he could. He breathed her in, that scent that had been his comfort for so many late and difficult nights. He liked to think that he had come to believe her, that he knew Foyet was gone, but apparently it wasn't anywhere close to that easy. On the other hand, his subconscious seemed so used to protecting those he cared about that the dream had come to surface.

Emily smiled slightly as she felt him kiss her head. She'd known he was having nightmares, but this was the first time that she knew of where she'd played any sort of a starring role. He didn't usually talk about them and when he did, they were always about Jack's death, or his own. It was always reliving the experience of seeing Haley, dead on the floor. This was the first time he'd told her a dream about seeing _her_ die.

It humbled her somewhat, that a man like Aaron Hotchner would get so worked up by his dream, by watching her get hurt. Because Aaron, though he cared about his team, did so from a distance. He tried to make their lives easier any way he could. Then it hit her, almost making her tense up. He'd woken up so out of sorts because it had been _her_ in his dream. It was then and there she realized that maybe, just maybe, he felt as deeply for her as she felt for him. That shot a different kind of thrill through her body, one that made her shiver and his hand immediately stroked her back as her body trembled slightly.

Keeping her new revelation in mind, she pushed herself up slightly, just enough to realign their bodies so she could kiss him. She'd meant for it to be a sweet kiss, one that kind of conveyed her new discovery and comfort him, but Aaron's breath immediately caught in his throat and Emily realized that maybe things were still too raw for this to have been a good idea. Aaron's hand came up behind her neck, holding her in place as he kissed her with an abandon she hadn't felt from him before. Both of them were always so conscious about the fact that the guilt of Haley's death still hung over Aaron's head and they'd kept things innocent because of it.

This was miles past innocent.

His tongue parted her lips and Emily squeaked as he rolled them over, pinning her to the mattress beneath him. Her back arched automatically as his thigh pushed down between hers, his hands snaking beneath her to her lower back. He pulled her body against his with one hand, as tightly as he could, while the other trailed up her side, over her shoulder to her neck. He adjusted slightly, fitting them together completely as his mouth plundered hers. It was partially shock at the passion and partially complete and utter enjoyment of the fire he lit in her body that had Emily simply surrendering to Aaron's every whim. And why it was such a shock when he all but ripped his own t-shirt when he lifted it over her head.

"Aaron," she gasped as the cold air hit her body almost in tandem with a thumb stroking her breast. His eyes were dark, glazed with need and lust and Emily had to force herself to focus. She gripped his wrist, the one stroking the soft skin of the side of her breast and pulled it up to kiss his palm. "Aaron stop."

"I don't want to stop," he replied, bending and taking her in his mouth.

She gasped and her back arched, her hand coming up to the back of his head. _We can't do this_, she repeated in her mind, trying to keep her attention. "No," she repeated, tugging on his hair, aware that her voice was a little less than convincing. He was doing amazing things to her body and she certainly wasn't a saint.

"I want you," he cajoled, even as he came back up to kiss her mouth.

Emily swooned, heat swamping her body, right to her head. Her entire body was on fire as his pressed against her, wrapping her leg around his waist so he could put more pressure between her thighs. She moaned, unable to stop the sound as the delicious tingles spread through her body. God, she wanted him, her body betraying the logical part of her mind that knew this was a bad idea, that their first time shouldn't be about affirmations of their life, but about celebrating what was growing between them. Still, his dominance was a turn on, and it wasn't like he was forcing her to do something she didn't want to do.

Her mind blanked as his thumb stroked across her nipple at the same time his thigh pressed against her core again. It was enough to have her gasping, clutching his back, fisting the t-shirt he wore. Her head flew back as the heat spiked within her, gentling slightly as the shock of the touch wore off. He occupied himself by kissing down her neck, finding the thrumming pulse in her throat and feeling her writhe beneath him. It was a thrill to him, knowing that he affected her like this, knowing that she was as lost in him at the moment as he was in her. His attraction rose to the forefront, dominating any gentleness or tender emotions.

She didn't protest as his hand slid under her pyjamas to cup her rear. She didn't do anything but moan as he adjusted, falling between thighs he spread, wrapping her other leg around to join the first. His stomach heated at her unconditional surrender, about the trust that it spoke of. Trust on the job was one thing, but Aaron had long ago learned that, with Emily, trust was earned. The fact that she was here, probably at her most vulnerable, and she trusted him not to hurt her, not to overstep boundaries was humbling.

But the thought quickly fell by the wayside as he latched onto her breast and she released a guttural groan. His hips bucked into hers of their own volition and she gasped with the contact, her hands fisting in his hair. He lavished attention on one breast, then the other, cataloguing the different sounds she made when he sucked, licked and nibbled on delicate, creamy skin.

"Jesus, Aaron," she breathed, yanking his head up to hers and kissing her for all she was worth. It was his turn to moan when she found the spot beneath his ear, hands snaking under his shirt to scrape her nails up the nerve endings in his back. His shirt went over his head before she was back, kissing his mouth, his neck, tasting him as his hands battled away her pyjama pants, leaving them in boxers and underwear.

Aaron could feel her heat through the two layers of clothing between them. His hand snuck down, stroking between her thighs, feeling the dampness of her panties. He strokes her through the cloth, letting his hand play over wet cotton, thrilling at the fact that he can do this to her. He can make her eyes dark, her nipples harden, that blush of arousal heat her skin. He can make her wet with wanting him, something part of his brain wondered if he'd been able to do it long before he even realized it.

She couldn't tell him to stop. She was lost in him, in his skin, his taste, his smell, and the feel of his strong, domineering body above hers. Another time, she'd make it her mission to take his unwavering control from him, but for the time being, she couldn't think past the fact that the way he moved against her, applying enough pressure and friction for release, but continuing to build the tension in her body. His fingers were strong between her thighs, rubbing against her and she wanted to get rid of the final barriers between them, feel all of him against her. So she was the one to remove his boxers, the first real move she'd made separate from his. He took that as his cue and removed her panties, almost flinging them off the side of the bed.

"You're beautiful," he breathed after pulling back to take her all in. Her skin was flushed, warm to the touch, her inner folds hotter and wetter. There was a sheen of sweat that had broken across her body and her eyes fell closed as his hand stroked her sides, dipping around to her back, her hips, before one finally pressed against her sensitive bundle of nerves. She whimpered then at the touch, her blood singing for him in the depths of her body. She couldn't resist him.

"Emily…."

And there was that, that reverence with which he breathed her name, the adoration she could see in his eyes. They didn't need words anymore, and regardless of her insecurities in the daylight, at that particular moment, she had none. She believed he loved her, wanted her, needed her, just as much as she did him and as his fingers brought her to her peak and flung her over, Emily closed her eyes and let herself go.

Aaron couldn't believe what he was seeing. He couldn't breathe for the beauty of her, head thrown back, hair fanned out against the pillowed, naked beneath him. But her hands reached for him, pulling him down so she could kiss him. It was passionate and dirty her hand snaking between them to grip him in her palm. He sucked in a breath, closing his eyes as his teeth sunk gently into her shoulder.

"Inside," she breathed, helping him, guiding him into her hot, slick opening. He moaned at the feeling, at the warmth around him as he slid home. She sighed, a sound that was so content that Aaron's heart stuttered. Then his thoughts scattered as she lifted her hips, taking him deeper, and he didn't have a choice but to move or be killed by the feeling of her plastered against him. As it was, he scrambled for control as he thrust in and out of her, thrilling at each moan, each gasp, each sound of pleasure that left her lips. He wasn't silent either, a continuing mantra of her name and how beautiful she was spread beneath him.

He could see the pleasure building in her face, could almost see to the second when she reached her second peak and this time, he let himself go with her. His world narrowed to just her, scent, taste, the feel of her burying her face in his neck to muffle her sounds as she came. He fell with her, collapsing against her as he waited for their breath to ease.

Emily was only partially surprised that the minute their breathing had calmed, he rolled them over, pulling her as close to him as he could. She allowed him to wrap her up tight and held on for a moment before moving her head to his ear.

"I'm here," she whispered, feeling him bury his face in her neck. Apparently the images of his nightmare were still close to the surface. "I'm here, Aaron. I'm alive. I'm not going anywhere."

He shuddered beneath her, pictures of her blood still painted across the back of his eyelids. He forced them back, replaced them with pictures of her, head thrown back in passion as he moved within her. The nausea that had crept up his throat again faded and he stroked her back gently.

"I'm not going anywhere," she repeated and he could hear the pain in her voice.

He wrapped his arms tighter around her. He wasn't planning on going anywhere either.

* * *

_**So by popular demand, here's what I made of the M-rated night Hotch and Em have in conjunction with Something More. Hope you guys enjoyed! It wasn't as emotional as I wish it had been, but hey!**_

_**Let me know?**_


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